


What's sweeter? A cake or your kiss?

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Baking, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24759232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: Eddie’s drowning in flour.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 250





	What's sweeter? A cake or your kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> I've been stress baking/cooking a lot lately and it finally carried over into fic. But with the idea of those three together? Being all domestic??? Can you really blame me? Unbeta'd, the mistakes are the only thing I own. 
> 
> Stay safe <3

Eddie’s drowning in flour. Seriously. He’s covered head to toe in the stuff and he doesn’t know  _ how. _ Christopher isn’t looking much better where he’s up on a chair at the counter, determidly mixing away because  _ ‘that’s what the instructions say dad’ _ and  _ ‘just stand back I love you but your baking is terrible’. _ Which is valid. But also  _ ouch. _ He’s going to have to give in and ask Bobby for lessons sooner rather than later, isn’t he? 

“Can I have the baking powder please?” Christopher asks and Eddie springs into action, ready to feel useful again. 

He hands over the box on the counter and Chris gives him a  _ look. _

“What?” 

“This is baking  _ soda _ , dad.” 

“There’s a difference? Wait, don’t tell Uncle Bobby I said that.” 

“Maybe we should call bisabuela.” His kid is  _ definitely _ laughing at him now as he scrambles to find the container marked baking powder. How the hell is it different from soda? Aren’t they both white, powdery and taste  _ terrible? _

“No! Nope, we’re not calling your bisabuela,” he deposits the proper container on the counter. Christopher has a stripe of flour across his nose and it’s cute enough to melt his heart so he quickly snags his phone, taking a picture. He sends it to Buck, then tucks his phone back in his pocket where it’s less likely to get baked into a cake. “We can do this! You and me, buddy.” 

Chris gives him a skeptical look.

The thing is, it was always  _ Shannon _ who did this kind of thing with Christopher. Or Eddie’s mother. Eddie hasn’t been around for the bakesales and the birthdays and the holiday parties. He’s met the other parents, PTA moms are  _ terrifying, _ and their baked goods and crafts are always  _ amazing. _ Chris deserves  _ that. _ He deserves to have cookies that aren’t burnt, and cakes that are actually edible. Eddie can run into a burning building on a daily basis, save lives, but this? This is so far out of his depth that he’s barely treading water. He doesn’t want to let his kid down,  _ can’t, _ but calling up abuela feels too much like giving up. 

“Okay, what’s next?” Eddie asks with forced cheer. 

Christopher doesn’t call him on it, thankfully, instead pointing to the ingredients list they’d printed out that morning. 

“Salt.”

“Salt! I can do that,” he grins, grabbing the box from the counter. “Does it say how much?”

They both squint down at the paper. 

“A pinch.”

“A pinch?” Eddie frowns at the directions, wishing they had found an easier set. “What’s a pinch?”He yelps when small fingers squeeze his side. Christopher bursts into giggles. “Oh, I see how it is. It’s on now!”

He wiggles his fingers as Christopher squeals but there’s nowhere to go and Eddie is quick to tickle him until they’re both breathless with laughter. 

This is how Buck finds them shortly after, bent over the counter, catching their breath, and the bowl of dry ingredients upended from an errant elbow. He’s got a reusable grocery bag in one hand, his phone in the other as he snaps a photo of the mess they’ve made with a giant grin.

“Everything okay in here?” He teases, setting the bag on the floor. 

“Buck!” Christopher’s face lights up and he wiggles around until Eddie can help him off the chair. Buck hurries to meet him for a hug, despite the fact that it leaves a giant smear of white powder all over the front of his jeans and tight black polo. He looks nice, like he put some effort into what he was wearing, and Eddie feels a twinge of guilt (not jealousy, never) for wherever he’d been heading dressed like that. “You came!”

“I couldn’t just ignore your SOS, could I?” He catches Eddie’s gaze and winks and Eddie realizes he’s been set up.

“What SOS?” Realization dawns on him and he pulls out his phone, easily finding where Chris had messaged Buck when his back was turned. “Sneaky. I see you two are ganging up against me now.”

“Buck can bake, dad.” Christopher rolls his eyes at him, then carefully gets back up on the chair. Buck steadies him with a hand on his back, ready to catch him at a moment's notice. It makes his chest tight to see how  _ instinctive _ it is for Buck, how much he cares for Chris. 

“You can?” He gives Buck a disbelieving look. 

“Bobby taught me the basics,” he confirms with a pleased smile. “And I watched  _ a lot _ of Youtube videos.” 

“Why didn’t we think of that?” Christopher shrugs. “Alright, well I guess we have backup now!”

“It’s gonna be the best cake ever!” 

Eddie grabs a damp cloth to wipe up the worst of their mess as Buck rights the bowl and rearranges the ingredients into some semblance of order. He scoops the bag up, setting it on the table and Eddie’s curiosity gets the better of him. 

“What’s in the bag?”

“The best part of baking,” Buck shares a conspiratorial grin with them. “The decorating.” 

He foresees two major sugar crashes in their near future. 

Buck is as competent in the kitchen baking as he is cooking. He lays out the ingredients within easy reach of Christopher, taking time to show him proper measurements, how to mix dry ingredients into wet. He’s patient with him,  _ kind, _ and Eddie happily leans against the fridge, out of the way but with the perfect view of his two favourite people working together. Buck makes baking look  _ easy _ and it melts his heart to see how interactive he makes it for Christopher. 

The way the thick muscles of his biceps flex when he whisks the dry ingredients doesn’t hurt either.

The cake goes into the oven and Eddie offers to take over cleanup duty while the pair rifle through the decorations Buck brought. There’s a lot less cake batter covering the kitchen than he thought there would be when they started that morning, Buck’s influence, and it doesn’t take him long to scrub the bowls and wipe down the counters. He finds his boys bent over a sheet of paper at the dining room table surrounded by bags and bottles of sprinkles and candies, and containers of frosting. He steals a jube jube while they’re distracted, peering from across the table at their drawing.

“Stop stealing the decorations,” Buck mumbles around the green crayon in his mouth. Eddie wrinkles his nose at how it must taste.

“Maybe you should try one of these instead.” He steals the crayon (and tries  _ very _ hard to ignore Buck’s plush mouth), offering up a green jube jube. Buck opens his mouth expectantly. Christopher is thankfully too engrossed in whatever they’re drawing to notice how Eddie has flushed scarlet and he thanks his lucky stars for that as he pops the candy in Buck’s mouth and tries to ignore the way his bottom lip brushes Eddie’s fingers. 

“You’re a literal child,” Eddie mumbles, ducking his head. He can feel Buck’s curious gaze on him but he ignores it. “What’re you two making?”

“We’re drawing the cake,” Christopher explains. “To decorate it.” He slides the paper over so Eddie can see it properly. He takes his time inspecting it, ‘hmmming’ and tilting his head this way and that. Christopher giggles and Eddie slides the paper back over.

“Needs more flowers I think.” 

“I  _ told _ you,” Chris tells Buck, who holds up his hands in surrender.

“You were right. I’ll have to remember how much you Diaz men love your flowers.” He glances at Eddie as he says it and there’s  _ something _ in his expression that has Eddie flushed all over again. Thankfully, he’s saved by the kitchen timer going off. 

Buck goes to take the cake out, deeming it ‘perfect’, but they still have to let it cool, so in the meantime Eddie cues up Netflix, figuring an episode of ‘Nailed It!’ is appropriate now. They get settled on the couch, Christopher between the two adults. He stretches his legs out, resting them on the coffee table, sinking back into the couch cushions with a grateful sigh. It’s surprising how much he  _ aches _ after baking. Buck stretches an arm out along the back of the couch, his hand coming to rest on the back of Eddie’s neck, where he digs his fingers in, working some of the tense, sore muscles. He sighs happily, leaning into the touch as they watch a baker make the same mistake Eddie had made earlier with the baking powder. 

Chris doesn’t make it to the end of the episode, gently ribbing his father until he passes out, nestled against Buck’s side. It’s early enough in the afternoon that he’s not worried about a nap ruining Chris’ bedtime so he leaves him be, his attention more on the sweet sight beside him, than on the episode. Buck holds himself carefully still, looking completely at ease with a nine year old sound asleep against his chest. It makes Eddie’s chest tight, warm; he loves the pair more than he can say, loves how much Buck cares for Christopher. 

Buck squeezes the back of his neck gently and he looks up, realizes he’s been caught staring. 

“You’re missing the big reveal,” Buck teases, voice pitched low. 

“Saw something I liked more,” he says softly, the words just slipping out. Buck’s thumb brushes gently against his skin, his expression intent and Eddie shivers. Emboldened, Eddie pushes to his feet, gently shifting Christopher enough that Buck can slip out from underneath him. He tucks him in with the throw blanket off the back of the couch, pausing the show so they can hear him if he wakes up. Then he leads Buck into the kitchen, where they’ll have the semblance of some privacy. His heart is racing, beating rabbit quick in his chest, and his stomach has twisted itself into knots of anticipation.

Buck grabs his hand once they’re safely out of sight, reeling him in. His other hand comes to rest on Eddie’s hip, chests brushing they’re so close. They’re on the precipice between what friends  _ do _ and  _ do not _ do. He could wind his arms around Buck, pull him in for a hug and pretend that friends stare the way they do,  _ feel _ the way they do. But if today has shown him anything, it’s that he’s  _ better _ with Buck in his life, wants him there every moment of every day. And he knows Chris does too. 

Buck seems to understand this too, a smile tugging at his lips and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to cup his cheek, press up on his toes and feel Buck’s smile pressed against his own. It’s sweet and simple, the brush of their lips, but it has Eddie buzzing, happiness suffusing every inch of his body. He presses Buck back against the counter, eager for more, feels Buck’s huff of laughter and swallows it up as he kisses him deeper, more demandingly. Buck’s hands slide around his back and down, pulling him closer until they’re flush together. His blood is racing through his veins, his skin flushed.

They pull apart to breathe, foreheads pressed together. He can’t wipe the smile from his face, lips swollen from Buck’s kisses. Buck doesn’t look any better, lips swollen and red.  _ He _ did that, he thinks, a mixture of pride and possessiveness washing over him.

“I love you,” he admits into the small, quiet space between them. Buck’s smile turns sweeter and he presses in for a quick, soft kiss.

“Yeah?” Eddie nods. “I love you too.” 

“Dad?” Christopher calls from the living room. “Can we decorate the cake now?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, buddy. One sec and we’ll bring the cake out.” He leans in for one last sweet kiss, lingering for a moment. “We uh, should probably talk before we tell Christopher anything.” He says quietly as Buck scoops up the cake and what they’ll need. 

“Okay,” he agrees easily, passing the cake off to Eddie. He leans in pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek. He flushes. “I’ll behave. Promise.”

Eddie doesn’t doubt that Buck  _ will, _ it’s keeping his hands to himself that he’s having trouble with at the moment. 

He follows Buck out of the kitchen, setting the cake down with a flourish in front of Christopher, who’s already made his way to the dining table. 

“What’s first?” He asks as the pair start dividing up the candies. 

“Icing.” Christopher determines. Buck helps him with the container, showing him how to spread it across the cake without picking up crumbs. Eddie settles in, phone out to snap photos. There’s some bare space on the wall on the way to the bedroom, time to fill it with more pictures. This time when he steals candies, Christopher doesn’t notice, too wrapped up in smoothing the icing across the cake. Buck does, giving him a  _ look. _

He has a feeling he’ll be paying for the theft later.

He can’t  _ wait. _


End file.
